


Gardening

by for_the_love_of_wolves



Series: Alphabet Stories [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Angst, Asexual Derek Hale, Catatonic Peter Hale, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gardens & Gardening, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, M/M, Mentions of Kate - Freeform, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_wolves/pseuds/for_the_love_of_wolves
Summary: "Gardening = the activity of tending and cultivating a garden, especially as a pastime."Laura gifts Derek some packs of seeds. Although Derek has never really been interested in gardening, he decides to try it out. After all, he hasn't much to do besides taking care of Peter. Derek visits a flower shop to get some supplies for his project. The man working there makes a lasting impression on him.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Peter Hale, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Alphabet Stories [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129667
Comments: 13
Kudos: 127





	Gardening

**Author's Note:**

> For this challenge, I write 500-1000 (my muse still can't count....) words stories to prompt words for every letter of the alphabet: G for Gardening.

On Derek’s nineteenth birthday, Laura gives him a kiss on his forehead in the middle of the night and puts something under his pillow. In the morning, Derek discovers several packs of seeds. Seeds for various herbs, vegetables and flowers. There are even raspberries. Raspberries. Peter’s favourites. 

Derek feels like crying. 

He doesn’t. 

In the years between the fire and now, he has spilled so many bitter tears, he doesn’t seem to have any left. 

Derek wonders about the seeds. He has never really done any gardening. Hasn’t considered it. Plants have always been boring to him. Useful and pretty, but boring. Even more boring than the books Peter tried to throw at him in the past. 

When he asks Laura about it, she shrugs. “I thought it would be nice to grow our own vegetables. And something colorful for the flat. Something living.” She smiles weakly. “I remembered how you once pulled out the poor little carrots in Mom’s garden when you were little, because you wanted to see if they really are growing underneath the earth. They weren’t even ripe.” 

Derek remembers too. With a pang of pain, like usually. A pang of pain, combined with the familiar pull of guilt. 

He goes to the local flower shop, to get some supplies. It is a sunny day. Barely cold. So he takes Peter with him. 

The flower shop is small. It is a bit tedious to get the wheelchair inside and past the chaos of plants without toppling anything over, but Derek manages. He looks around and is fascinated by all the colour. He wouldn’t be able to keep all these plants apart. Hell, he can’t even name a single one of them. 

“Hello, can I help you?” a voice bubbles beside him, and Derek winces. 

He turns his head and looks at a young man, who is beaming at him, bouncing on his heels. His skin is pale, but his eyes are shining like warm honey. His hair is a mess. Looks like he just woke up from a nap. His eyes flick to Peter and settle on his destroyed face for a volatile moment until they quickly flick back to Derek. The man is trying not to show a reaction and fails. Derek is used to it by now. Is used to the glances and whispers and pity or horror in people's eyes. 

The human clears his throat and repeats, "Can I help you?"

Derek nods, his hands tightening around the handles of the wheelchair. “My sister gifted me some seeds. But I don’t have any tools.” 

“Oh. I see,” the man says. “I am sure we can get you covered.” 

What follows, is a trip through the whole shop. Derek ends up with his arms full of supplies. Earth, scissors, watering cans in various sizes, fertilizer. All the while, Stiles is talking, dumping information on Derek, telling him how to handle the seeds.

Derek feels kind of overwhelmed, but also strangely ... attracted to this man.

“I’m Stiles,” the young man blurts out in the end, right before Derek is about to say his goodbyes, and blushes. He smells … flustered. “Stiles Stilinski.” 

“Derek.”

Stiles smiles. 

Somehow, Derek can see that smile still in front of his eyes when he heads home with Peter. 

* * *

First, Derek isn’t sure he is doing things right. He follows Stiles’ instructions and just hopes the plants will grow. At least a few of them. He sticks tags to each pot, writing the plants’ names on them with a waterproof pen. 

He is surprised about how excited he gets while waiting for the seeds to sprout. 

Sometimes, he ends up glaring at the earth and Laura laughs at him when she comes home. But it sounds lighthearted. 

Somehow, Derek thinks the next time he washes his uncle - routine by now, just like everything else - Peter is like the seeds. He is still and needs to be watered. He doesn't change. At least not now. He will, but with time. 

Derek is sure of that. Even though it’s been years since he got Peter out of the hospital and took him home. The doctors tried to talk him out of it. They said Peter would need life long care. Said that it’s not something a family member can - should - do. Not 24 hours a day. 

Derek didn’t listen. They don’t know what Peter is. They don’t know a wolf is going to heal faster surrounded by pack.

Derek knows Laura has doubts too. She just doesn’t tell him. But it is in her eyes and in the way she keeps her distance. Like she doesn’t want to be disappointed. Laura works most of the day and sometimes half the night in a little café, earning money. She wouldn’t have to, but Derek gets why she needs to. For now, at least. He would never try to talk her out of it. 

And he doesn’t mind doing most of the care stuff. Something inside him knows it is because he is trying to make amends. But that is not the only reason. It is also because it is Peter. Peter, who always had Derek’s back. Who was there in the moment of danger. Even though he loved to mess with Derek, loved to tease, he was there. Derek wants to be there too. 

He reads articles online. About how to take care of a catatonic family member. He moves Peter’s limbs so he won’t get sore, he washes him with his favourite soap, he even reads him his books. The ones that survived the fire. He takes care of Peter. Just like he takes care of the plants that start to carefully break through the earth, searching for light. 

Sometimes, Derek does get frustrated. Sometimes, it is going too slow. There is no change at all. And sometimes, he yells at Peter. He feels sorry for it later, but at that moment … at that moment, he is just desperate and frustrated and so incredibly lonely. So he yells into Peter’s still face, yells for him to say something. Anything. 

There is nothing, of course. Peter’s face remains still, his eyes hazy and distant. His uncle has never been like that. So still. Even when he was reading, he was always moving, tapping a finger against his chin or moving his toes. 

Sometimes, Derek has to see something else. He leaves only when Laura is there. He goes to the little flower shop - he didn’t plan for it. His feet just carry him there. - and acts like he is searching for something, while glancing at Stiles, who sits at the counter, reading. 

Stiles looks up when Derek bumps into a big plant, and smiles. “Hey. Derek.” 

“Hey,” Derek says lamely. Something inside him twists. But not in the bad way. “I, uh, I need … something.” God. He wants to slap himself. He’s never been great with people. Derek rubs his head. “I wondered … do plants grow faster with artificial light?”

Stiles beams. He opens his mouth and doesn’t close it for a long, long while. 

Derek listens to the infodump and thinks, this is fine. It somehow calms him down. 

“Hey, do you want to go for a coffee sometime? Maybe? With, uh, me?” Stiles asks suddenly, and blushes violently, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. 

Derek blinks. He hesitates. Maybe … he shouldn’t. Stiles is a human. What happened the last time he talked to a human for more than a few minutes? He shivers. But … but something in Stiles’ eyes tells him to say yes. Something inside him wants him to say yes. Maybe it is the awful nag of lonliness. Or maybe it is the longing for distraction. The longing for something that doesn't carry the echo of smoke and pain.

“I’d like that,” Derek finally says, surprising himself. 

Stiles grins. “Awesome.” 

* * *

When Peter moves his fingers for the first time, Derek is busy with the plants. He is cutting back the raspberry bushes, because they are still small, but already trying to outgrow each other in their eagerness to reach for the sun. He wishes he could tell the plants that this isn’t meant to be a race. 

When he sits back, to inspect his work, Derek sees a movement out of the corner of his eyes and snaps his head to the side, staring at Peter. He isn’t sure if he’s seen right … But yes, there it is again. The twitch of a finger.  
  
Derek’s breath falters. 

He drops the scissors. 

* * *

In the end, it turns out that everyone likes Stiles. 

Peter still has problems to talk, but his scarred face twists into a crooked smile every time Stiles walks into the flat, another flower in his hands. Another gift. 

Laura even invites Stiles to dinner. For Derek, it means a lot to get the approval of his Alpha. But also … he is just glad they can do something like this. Having dinner with someone, laughing and even bickering a bit. Something so normal. 

It feels nice. Feels like something is bringing them closer together. 

And being with Stiles is easy. So easy. 

Talking to him comes natural. Derek doesn’t have to think about what to say. He just talks. And Stiles listens, never smelling bored or annoyed. 

“You are taking great care of your plants,” Stiles tells Derek, when he inspects the impressive collection on the window sills. “You should be a gardener!” 

Derek just smiles. 

* * *

Of course, there are a few things that worry Derek. 

Stiles doesn’t know he is seeing a werewolf. 

And there is more. Something that Derek wishes he could keep a secret. He isn’t sure how to say it. Isn’t sure if he will ever address it. But his relationship with Stiles develops like his plants. It is growing. 

There are the first gentle touches and smiles that mean more. 

In the end, he just blurts it out. Kind of out of nowhere. 

"I don't like sex."

There. There it is. There is the proof he is broken. Kate told him he is. She told him she was going to repair him, in her awful, sweet voice. Derek waits for the bewilderment that is going to follow his revelation. He can feel the prick of claws and quickly hides his hands.

Then Stiles says, "Ok." And nothing more.

Derek frowns. “Ok?” 

Stiles smiles. “Yeah. Ok. We are all different. You don’t like sex. I don’t like melted cheese on my sandwich. Great.” 

That manages to get a laugh out of Derek. He feels … free. Stiles doesn’t treat him like he is broken. Not at all. He vaguely, painfully, remembers Kate. The ghost of her touch. The echo of wrongness. _Don't worry._ _It’s going to be great, sweetheart. You are just a little bit scared and I get that. But we are going to make you like it, alright? Trust me._

_Trust me …_

Derek shivers involuntarily.

Stiles takes his hand and squeezes gently. “What about snuggles? And kisses? Do you like those?” he asks. 

Derek nods. “Yeah. Snuggles are ok. And I like kisses.” 

“May I kiss you?” Stiles asks, blushing. 

“Yeah,” Derek breathes. 

Stiles’ lips are warm and soft. They taste a bit like earth. But they are also like the sun. Which is fitting. 

* * *

Stiles being around becomes natural. 

It is like he is part of the pack without really knowing it. 

When Derek tries to tell him, tries to say, “Look, Stiles. There is something you don’t know about me. About us …”, Stiles interrupts him, an excited glimmer in his eyes as he asks, “Are you a vampire?” 

Derek frowns. “What? I … No.” 

“A werewolf then. Great,” Stiles grins. “I always liked werewolves better than vampires anyway.” 

Derek just stares at Stiles, unable to process this information. 

Stiles chuckles and shrugs. “What can I say? The clues are all there. I just put them together. Maybe I should have become an agent after all. But then … that would be way too much work. Also I would have had to leave Beacon Hills and nope, won't do that.” 

Derek still can’t say anything. He’s totally dumbfounded. He watches as Stiles puts a blanket over Peter’s legs and asks him, “Are you ready for a walk? I have to show you two that ice-cream place I discovered. Has to be the best one in the world. Well, in this one at least.” 

Peter smiles. “More than ready.” 

“Fasten your seatbelt then,” Stiles says. He grips the handles of Peter’s wheelchair, running away with him, howling like a maniac. “Hurry up, Derek! Or you won’t geeeet us!” 

Derek shakes his head, smiles and walks after them. Stiles really is … something. 

Something he would have never expected happening, when he found that pack of seeds under his pillow. 


End file.
